Spe nt Thanksgiving in San Jose with part of the family, including two nieces, a grandniece, a sister, and a grand nephew. It was my first Thanksgiving in the states…Read more
On the road again…..Ramsbury, Wiltshire, Here in Ramsbury, in Wiltshire, the weather is giving me a great send off to my long trip to the land of my…Read more
Rh I love to eat rhubarb now, but when I was little I didn’t, especially stewed into a gluey pink mess and served for breakfast. Disguised as pie, however, with…Read more
Well, that’s it. Symptoms of advancing years popping up, or maybe creakily- becoming- vertical, with each passing day. I walk down to Collins’, the green-grocer in the square to –…Read more
The Six Nations Rugby matches have begun, an annual competition between Ireland, Wales, England, Scotland, France, and Italy. For my US friends, Rugby is something like American football except that: You can’t pass the ball forward, you can only run forward with it; the scrimmage is called the scrummage, no protective pads, and they never stop except for an injury or penalty, which means they don’t get to rest much.
I like watching it, but found myself rooting for Wales, which my English husband wasn’t too happy about, but then, I am an inveterate cheerer for the underdog, as well as being unable to stop playing devil’s advocate. England won, but only after a very tense game.
Whichever team wins the most points in the whole series wins, so of course even if a team loses one game, they can still win. Today, Ireland beat Italy (poor old underdog), and the Irish are playing the French in Paris.
It means several days of continuous rugby in our house; in France we used to have rugby parties, like people do on Superbowl Sunday, and everyone seemed to root for a different team. No fisticuffs though, even between the Brits and the French.
(Sandy, can’t help thinking of you. You would love it. )Read more
DML_Yuba_Rocks_Water-9.jpg | David Lovere. Exquisite, original photos by David —Read more
Reprinted from The Times: Weather The winter of ’47: I’ve borrowed a balaclava helmet from Fred to wear in bed! This winter seems bad but the freeze of 1947, the…Read more
We had our very own Anchoress back in the 14th century. She lived in Ash and Willow cottages down by the Tillingbourne , the river which runs through the village,…Read more
I watch from my window this morning as the man who lives across the street sets out for the church. He is slightly bent over, but walks briskly, dressed…Read more
The village of Shere is several hundred years old. The church dates from the 11th century and several houses date from Tudor times. Ours is new-ish, built in 1635 or…Read more